Addy And The Smart Guy (Big Girl Panties #3) (18 page)

Time stood still for them both. She could hear him breathing, knew he was watching her. He stroked the back of her head. She closed her eyes and took him in her mouth. She'd never done this before. He gasped, his hand fisting in her hair. She experimented, sucking, stroking him with her tongue, moving up and down until she found the right rhythm and movements to make him groan and quietly curse. The feel of him in her mouth had her aching, throbbing with desire.
 

"Ah, Christ, Addison," he murmured, his hand tightening in her hair, his other hand gently cupping her cheek. She could feel him begin to tremble. He was going to come in her mouth. The thought thrilled her except that she wanted to feel him inside of her. She wasn't sure what she should do, but the decision was taken from her when he cried out, "Fuck!" and began thrusting and coming into her mouth.

She felt him pulse and spurt and gradually soften. She felt him shiver as her throat muscles contracted around him.
 

He pulled out and sat back on his heels, still cupping her face. "I am gonna make that worth your while, Addy."

He'd never called her Addy. It seemed so much more intimate than Addison, which had seemed so much more intimate than Ms. Hart. The emotions and the need were filling her to the brim. He stood, pulling her to her feet. Then he stepped back. "Take off your clothes."

She hurried to obey, first discarding her bra, then shoving out of her jeans and panties. He laid his own t-shirt along the edge of a sofa cushion. "Sit down and spread your legs, Addy."

She could barely breathe as she obeyed, positioning herself on the edge of the sofa, leaning back, and pulling her ankles up so she could spread herself for him. He knelt and lowered his head, almost reverently. The first strokes of his tongue nearly blinded her. But she forced her focus back to him and watched the muscles in his bare shoulders and arms, tense as he gripped her hips to hold her in place. His hair fell over his eyes and onto her mound so that she couldn't see him.

She reached down and pushed it back, but it fell forward again. She gave up and dropped her head back, allowing herself to float away on the hot sensations building within her. At last, the heat was so bright she found herself whimpering. Crying out. Screaming his name, fisting her hands in his hair, and grinding against his mouth.

She fell back, sobbing and weak, helpless as he lifted her into his arms. He sat, with her astride him, onto the sofa. He'd pulled his boxers up, but she was completely bare. Her bare breasts pressed against his chest. His hands rubbed up and down her back, pressing into her firmly.
 

"I wanna take you home with me tonight," he said softly.

Her heart quickened. Desire began to rise in her again. "We have to be careful," she said.

"Who's going to know? Besides, everyone already thinks we're doing it. Fuck it, Addy. I need you in my life. I need you in my bed. Will you come home with me tonight?"

She stifled a sob. Her hips began grinding against him. His hands moved to her ass, pressing her harder against him.
 

"Sit up," he whispered. "I wanna look at you."

She obeyed, regretting the change in pressure, the loss of pleasure she'd begun to receive. But then he put his hand on her. He slipped his fingers inside of her and massaged her with his thumb. She started to lean forward again, to bury her face in his neck.

"No, stay up," he said. "I wanna look at you."

She braced her hands on his shoulders and arched her back, moving against his thumb the way she wanted to. His blue eyes were bright, his expression grim and determined. His glasses were somewhere on the floor with hers amongst their clothes. "You want to come home with me, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes," she gasped.

"You want to be mine? Only mine?"

"Yes, Grey. I love you so much." She closed her eyes as she said it, as though her eyes instinctively knew she didn't want to see his reaction.

He didn't answer, but he didn't stop massaging her, either. She opened her eyes again and looked down at where his hand was…at what his hand was doing to her. "I can't stop thinking about you," he whispered. "I can't stop remembering every fucking time we touched, kissed, laughed, made love. I feel you on my skin when I wake up in the mornings, before I open my eyes. I smell you, taste you…just a phantom of you, but for a moment, it's so real. Addy, the mere feel of your name on my lips makes me ache for you; makes me hard for you, honey."

"Oh, God, Grey," she cried, and came in his hand. She thrust with each wave of orgasm, and with each wave cried out, until she was spent and collapsed in his arms. He took her in his embrace, holding her, protecting her. She allowed herself to feel small and weak in that moment, to feel vulnerable and needy; because he was there for her, and because she trusted him.

Later, they found themselves speeding up the interstate toward Grey's apartment. Addison had wanted to take her car, too, but Grey didn't want her driving separately. He couldn't bear to be separated from her for that long.

"I'll buy you a new car," he'd said.
 

He pulled into his parking garage. The time it took them both to get out of the car was almost too much. He met her as she was closing her car door. He took her in his arms and kissed her. He grabbed her ass and lifted her onto his hips, pressing her against the car, grinding his erection against her. "I'd fuck you here, Addy, but I want you in my bed."

She shoved him away, her feet landing on the ground, grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the stairwell. His hands were shaking or he would have gotten his door unlocked much faster. They fell into his apartment, tumbled into his room, and rolled onto his bed, kissing and grinding and pulling at each other's clothes.

He hopped off of her, stood, and stripped as she did the same. He was as hard as if he hadn't just gotten the best blow-job of his life less than two hours ago. She crawled back onto the bed and rested her upper body on the bed while her ass stayed up in the air, exposing herself in the most inviting manner. Grey's mouth watered. His erection hardened. He knelt behind her and took a moment to appreciate the view.

He rubbed his hand up and down her spine, trailing his fingers all the way down to her clit, massaging it gently. He positioned himself at her entrance, taking a moment to revel in the anticipation, intending to take her hard and fast.

That was when he remembered her situation. He'd never been with a pregnant woman. He was thirty-five years old, and he'd kept so far away from anything to do with commitment that he didn't even know if it was healthy for a pregnant woman to have sex.

"Oh, Grey, please. Now. I can't wait any longer."

He removed his hand from between her legs. "Um. Are you sure?" he asked.

"Fuck, yes! God, please come inside me now!" she was nearly sobbing as she fisted her hands in his comforter.
 

He sat back, pulling her hips down. She looked back over her shoulder at him, then she sat up and turned toward him. Her breasts looked incredible. He couldn't take his eyes off of them, and if anything, he'd gotten harder just looking at her, just thinking about her carrying his child, which was exactly the opposite reaction he might have expected. "Grey, what is it? I'm ready."

He forced his eyes up to hers. "Is it safe for you?" he asked.

Her lips twitched up at the corners. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure it's okay."

"Pretty sure?"

"Yeah. I know for a fact Maya had sex while she was pregnant. And on TV, people are always doing it. I'm sure it's fine."

He frowned and moved toward her. She lay back on her elbows as he hovered over her. "Okay. I'll be gentle. We should ask the doctor about how rough we're allowed to be."

She smiled, and he knew from his reaction to that smile that nothing in the world mattered as much as being with her. He kept his body off of her, touching her only where he was sliding into her, watching her mouth drop open and her eyes drift closed; watching her body move with his thrusts, her breasts bounce with his thrusts, her fingernails dig into his forearms.

He slowed, dropping his pelvis to grind in deep, subtle thrusts, against her. Now she joined him, writhing against him, moaning and panting. He watched her breath stop knowing that in the next second she would be coming. She came. He watched her, learning more about her—the way her jaw tightened and her eyes squeezed shut; the way she looked like she was in the heights of ecstasy and the agony of pain all at once; the way her muscles relaxed at the same time as her face softened into a smile and her eyes slitted open to look up at him.

He pulled out of her and turned her onto her side. He slid into her, a hand on either side of her shoulders, one of his legs between hers. She cried out. "I like this," she gasped.
 

He did too.

"This feels so good," she moaned. "We should do it like this all the time."

He lost control, breaking into a sweat and pounding into her. She slipped her hand between her legs to massage herself. His passion shot to all new highs, watching her hand moving in fast circles. He forgot all about being gentle and pushed into her, harder and deeper, overcome, frenzied, moaning, cursing. She came with a cry, and he plunged over the edge, coming in hard, pulsing waves, still thrusting into her, desperate to be deeper.

It was quiet. He was leaning over her, buried in her. Sweat dripped from the tip of his nose onto her shoulder. His hair clung to his face. Her hair was in her face. All he could see was her lips, swollen and parted. All he could see was his hand on her, stroking back her hair, trailing over her breast, resting atop hers between her legs.

Slowly he pulled out of her and spooned her, touching as much of her body with as much of his as possible. He didn't expect to fall asleep so easily, so peacefully. He awoke once in the night to find her facing him, a blanket over them both. He smiled and drifted off again.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

She woke up alone in a strange bed. But when she inhaled, she knew she wasn't in a strange bed. She was in Grey's bed. The sheets smelled of sex and him. She moaned, smiled, and reveled in the little aches all over her body.
 

She smelled coffee and something else…maybe omelets. She rose and started to dress, but she thought better of it. She strolled, naked, into the kitchen, leaning against the entryway. Grey was at the stove with his bare back to her, wearing sweatpants, barefoot, making omelets. He glanced over his shoulder, blew a strand of hair out of his eye, and grinned at her. He turned back to the stove. "You look good enough to eat, kiddo," he said.

She beamed. "I was going to try to seduce you, but that breakfast smells incredible."

"Tell you what, we'll eat and then take a long, hot shower together. You can seduce me in there."

"Sounds perfect." She turned back to his room, found his t-shirt on the floor, and slipped it on. She decided that was plenty of clothing for breakfast. He was setting the table when she went back in the kitchen. She sat at the little café table and waited for him.
 

His knees bumped into hers as he took the seat across from her. They let their legs tangle together, smiling as they took the first bites of their breakfast. As he lifted his second bite to his mouth, there was a knock at the door.

They both froze for a moment. He sat his fork down and calmly went to the door, calmly peeked out the peephole, and not so calmly jumped back. He turned to her, his eyes wide behind his glasses. "It's my mom," he whispered. "You have to hide."

"I have to hide?" she repeated.

"Shh! Lower your voice." He hurried to her side, took the fork out of her hand, and pulled her to her feet. "Go back to the bedroom and wait until she leaves. I need my shirt." He started to tug the shirt off of her.
 

She slapped his hands and tugged the shirt down over her hips. "If you take it I'll be naked."

"You'll be in the bedroom."
 

"Stop it…."

"Give it here…."

They continued slapping at each other until the knock came again.
 

"Greyson, I can hear the two of you," his mom's voice came through the door. "Let the girl keep her shirt, and let me in."

Addy snorted, trying not to laugh. This whole situation was so absurd.

Grey backed away from her and turned to the door. He unlocked and swung it open, before walking past Addy into his bedroom.
 

Gloria McDaniel strolled in, pushing the door shut behind her. She wore an amused smirk as she came into the kitchen.

Addy was dressed only in a t-shirt, but she still had her manners. She stepped forward and extended her hand. "Mrs. McDaniel," she said.

"Ms. Hart," Gloria replied, shaking her hand. "I think we can be on a first name basis at this point, don't you?"

"If you'd like."

Grey came back in, fully clothed, now. "We were just having breakfast," he said. "Can I fix you something?"

"No, thank you, dear. I ate before I came." She took Grey's seat at the table. Addy sat across from her and continued her breakfast, while Grey leaned back against the counter with his arms folded over his chest.
 

"What do you want, then?" Grey asked.

Gloria sighed. "Are you never happy to see me?"

"Not lately."

"Well, I simply came by to offer you moral support, knowing what you're going through with that Gwen girl. But I see you've got all the moral support you need."

She winked at Addy. Addy winked back. She was beginning to like his mother.

"Addison, you and I should have lunch some time," Gloria said. "I must admit I'm pleased to see that Greyson has had a little romance in his life."

"I don't think—" Grey started to speak.

"That would be lovely," Addy said, shooting Grey a smug look.

"I could give you some background on why he is…the way he is," Gloria continued.

"Mother, I don't—"

"I'd love that," Addy interrupted him again. "I'm still uncertain what this is or where it might go, but we should get together after the semester is over. I assume we're attempting to remain discreet for the next few weeks?" She turned to Grey with the question.